


Lofe is Strange

by Lightfeather



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4098400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightfeather/pseuds/Lightfeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Marianne didn't just sit and cry when a castle fell on poor Bog?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fanfic. What the hell have I gotten into...
> 
> I know MagicalStranger13 said she was working on a similar idea but I had to get this one out of my head. It was driving me crazy.
> 
> (I apologize in advance for any scars you're left with after reading this.)

Chapter 1

The sound was deafening. As the castle crumbled into the ravine below, Marianne collapsed with fear lancing through her so violently that she continued to shake even after the deep rumbling ceased. She didn't notice Dawn leave her embrace. She trembled with such emotion it paralyzed her, but it was momentary. Something snapped within her and she calmed with steely resolve. She was herself once again. A guttural cry was torn from her as she dove off the precipice and into the settling dust, tears streaming unbidden from her eyes, wings tight against her body. Only one thought echoed in her mind as she raced downward, lips curled back in a snarl of defiance.

_I love him. He cannot die. I will not allow it._

…….

Into the dust she flew, blinded and frantic. She called for him, her voice muffled in the haze. Sounds of settling debris skittered in her ears as she strained for a response. Her heart leapt when she saw something white amidst the muted browns and greys of the swirling eddies of dirt that covered everything. It was the skull entryway. Upside-down and still as death, its jaws clamped tightly shut.

Marianne rushed to it and called for him, frantically flying along the length of the immense teeth, but there was no response. She flew around to the back where the wide opening yawned in front of her silently, and without hesitation entered the backwards-gaping maw.

There wasn't much light so it was difficult to see but there he was, unmoving. A little sob escaped her as she rushed to him, her hands fluttering about his prone body. His arm was caught in the teeth of the great skull and he hung limply from it like a broken toy.

"Bog!" she cried. "Oh Bog, please wake up!"

She cupped his face in her hands and brought her cheek close to his mouth to check for signs of life. She felt it. The fine rustle of air passed over her delicate sensitive skin and she exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

She took only a moment to revel in this discovery before looking around for a way to free him from the tightly clamped jaws of the skull. She found a bit of wood outside and tried to use it to lever the jaws open, but the wood from the destroyed old castle was rotted through and too brittle to do what she needed. It snapped under the slightest pressure. She swore angrily and rushed back out to continue searching.

A short ways away she saw something glint and discovered Roland's sword. Her brow furrowed as she remembered the last time she held it. She had dropped it in disgust shortly before the castle collapsed after he unsuccessfully tried to dust her with the love potion. Her own weapon fell from her grasp and was lost when Roland snatched her away while inside. It must be buried under a mountain of rotted wood right now.

She flew back to Bog with her sturdy prize and attempted to use it to lever the jaw open and release him. She tried with all her might and the bone shifted ever so slightly. Bog moaned in pain and his body twitched. Horrified, she stopped pushing down on the blade and felt a terrible sense of futility.

She rushed to him. "Bog! Bog, it's all right. I'm here."

His eyes flickered open and he grimaced in pain. His body shook and he grunted as he tried to move.

"Marianne…" he whispered.

"Shhh, I know. It's going to be ok. Your arm is pinned in the jaws of the entryway and I need to figure out how to get you free," she said, carefully helping him into a more comfortable position.

"My staff…" he gestured towards the front of the skull. It was darkest there but she could see the warm glow from the amber it contained and fetched it for him. He pointed weakly at the low ceiling, then traced his finger down to the floor.

With labored breath he said, "Place the staff there. Secure the bottom first. Then try to maneuver the top against the ceiling and push."

She did as he said, setting the staff on the ground and putting a foot beside it to brace against. Then, straining for all she was worth she shoved it in order to wedge the staff between the jawbones. The top of the staff scratched along the roof, leaving a short jagged trail before becoming stuck. She couldn’t move it any further. She spat out a curse and left the staff there, tilted at an angle, to return to his side.

"I can't do this alone, I need help," she said, and gently touched his face. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I'm not going anywhere," Bog grumbled.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Well, at least the fall didn't hurt your demeanor." And with a squeeze of his free hand she left him to get help.

She flew a short way before she heard her sister calling her name.

"I'm over here!" Marianne yelled back, and started to fly in Dawn's direction.

They found each other and Dawn hugged her tight. "I was so worried! You were there, and then you were gone! I found Sunny. He's ok," she said with a shy smile. "Did you find Bog?" she continued, concerned.

"I did, but he's hurt pretty bad. And trapped. I need your help. Come on," replied Marianne, and she flew back towards the upturned skull with Dawn following close behind her.

As they entered the skull they could hear Bog's labored breathing. The sound wound itself around Marianne's heart and squeezed until tears welled in her eyes. She rushed to his side and took his free hand. His eyes were closed again. She noticed he was bleeding and was disgusted at herself for not seeing it earlier. She tore strips off her soft tunic to create temporary bandages and began tending to his lacerations.

His eyes opened slowly and he saw her. He raised his hand up and let it brush softly over her cheek. Bog felt a small thrill, even over the pain, at their momentary contact. As he began to let his arm drop, she reached up and clasped his hand to her face. Turning into it she let out a strangled sob, her tears spilling onto his fingers.

"Don't… don't cry," whispered Bog. "I'll be fine. Just… need to get myself free."

Dawn stepped up behind her sister and placed her hand on Marianne's shoulder. Marianne blinked back her tears and gently lowered his hand. "Right. You're right. I think I know a way. We can do this." She pointed to the half-cocked staff wedged in the middle of the jaw. "Dawn, I'm going to need you to try and prop the staff up straight between the jawbones to hold it open while I use this sword to wedge them apart."

Marianne stood up and picked up the discarded sword. Dawn nodded and positioned herself by the staff, gripping it tight.

With all her strength, Marianne thrust the sword between the teeth of the massive jaws and began to lever them open, sweat beading up on her brow. Dawn shoved on the staff as the jaws separated to prop it open. Slowly but surely they managed to open it enough that a snarling Bog was able to tear his arm free of confinement and clutch it to his chest. His hand was completely crushed and his arm was broken. It was a gruesome sight.

Marianne rushed to his side and her hands hovered close, afraid to touch him. Afraid to hurt him further. She said, "I… I don't think I can fix this. We need to get you to a healer."

Bog nodded, conflicted with feelings so at odds with each other. Pain from his wounds mixed in a soup of sweet pleasure at her concern for him. He noticed it all. The tone of her voice, the small furtive touches… the tears. He knew how he felt about her, but could she feel the same? Did she feel the same?

_Impossible_.

Dawn watched her sister and Bog, and her eyes lit up with realization. She said, "You guys. I think I can fix this… don't go anywhere. I have to find Plum."

They both turned to her and Marianne said, "Plum? But why…"

However, Dawn had already left. Giddy and swift, she flew back to where she had left Sunny and everyone else so she could ask the Sugar Plum fairy for a very big favor. If she was right, everything was going to be all right.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The various denizens of the castle were still milling around in a state of shock, looking for loved ones and tending the wounded. Both goblin and fairy alike. Dawn scanned the crowd for the tell-tale blue glow of the Sugar Plum Fairy, and once spotted, rushed over to alight gently on the ground in front of her.

"Plum! I found Marianne and Bog, but he's hurt really, REALLY bad and…" Dawn said.

Plum held up her hands and replied, "Slow down, sweetie! Now, tell me what's wrong with him."

"His arm was crushed, bad. It… I don't think it can be saved, but when I saw Marianne and Bog together, I thought of you. I think you can help make him whole again," Dawn said, her eyes pleading.

Plum pondered for a moment and then smiled. "I think you're right. Let's go gather some primrose petals. We're probably going to need a few!"

As the two flew off to hunt for the pink petals, Roland peered out from behind a leaf. His eyes narrowed and he adjusted his belt, where the love potion was tied.

……

Marianne and Bog were alone in the dimly-lit skull. He in pain, and she, tortured over his suffering. She left him for a moment to bring him water contained in a deftly folded leaf. Upon her return she busied herself trying to make a fire. Bog was paler than usual, shaking from shock and blood loss as well as cool to the touch.

He moved carefully to place his back against the wall of the macabre cave. Marianne slowly sat down beside him, on his good side, once the fire was established and consuming lumps of crumbled castle. The smoke trailed lazily up and pooled above them before wisping out the entrance.

"Well, isn't this just perfect," Bog said, with a disgusted snort. "Hideous _and_ crippled."

Marianne's eyes softened and she scooted around to face him. He wouldn’t look at her.

"Look at me, Bog," she demanded, gently.

"No. I… I can't. I had so much I wanted to say to you, but it doesn't matter now," Bog said softly.

Marianne inched closer to him and ducked her head down close to his chest, and looked up to meet his downcast eyes. "But I still have things to say to you," she replied.

He raised his head and she leaned back a bit, but not too far.

"When you saved us, Dawn and me, and I had to fly away and leave you…" her voice caught in her throat. "And then the castle fell and took _everything_ …" She inched closer. "I though… I thought I'd never see you alive again."

She pressed her cheek against his, wrapping her arms around his neck, being mindful not to bump his wounded arm. She whispered in his ear, "I thought I knew what love was once, but I had no idea."

She pulled back to gaze into Bog's eyes. "I didn't understand, truly, until now."

She closed her eyes and kissed him then, slow and tentative, unsure how he would respond. She felt his hand on her back, pressure increasing until she was against him. His broken arm forgotten, it fell to his side as he crushed her to him, responding with unexpected fervor.

Joy suffused her every fiber as her affection was returned. Tears of happiness streaked her dusty cheeks. She looked up at him and said, "Bog, I love you."

Bog was flushed and thought he may be slightly delirious as he looked back at this wild creature on his lap, so trusting and soft, and replied, "And I, you."

……

A short while, and many kisses later, a silvery-blue glow filtered between the cracks of the teeth and pathed its way around to the entrance. Dawn and the Sugar Plum Fairy, arms laden with primrose petals, flew into the cavern.

"Well, I was going to ask how you're doing, but I can see that you're doing _very_ well," Dawn said with a grin.

"Ha ha, very funny," replied Marianne as she disentangled herself from Bog. "Primrose petals? How are those going to help?"

Plum dropped her armload of petals over near Bog and motioned for Dawn to do the same. "Oh honey, primrose petals can do some pretty wonderful things. They can be turned into a potion to encourage love to bloom where no love was before, but when love is part of the recipe, well, there's a powerful magic in that, too."

Plum spun in place and six tiny replicas of her ejected from her body and began manipulating the primrose petals, extracting their essence and creating glowing, floating spheres of marbled light that hovered around Bog and Marianne.

"Now my dears," said Plum. "It's time for you to add a bit of your own spice to this cake." She winked at them, and began gesticulating over the spheres causing them to warp and blend together into a sort of translucent dome that dropped slowly around the couple.

As the dome of light and magic settled over Bog and Marianne, they could no longer hear or see outside. They were in a bubble that pulsed and undulated around them. It was a tiny world, and they were the only two in it. As they looked at each other, the wellspring of feelings they had for one another rose to the surface and they fell into each other as lovers are wont to do.

Tendrils of light, pulled thinly from the inner walls of the magic covering, reached and curled towards them, attracted to their love. Some invaded Marianne's hair, others wrapped around limbs, fingers, ears. Most found themselves curing around Bog's mangled arm.

As they fell deeper into their emotions the bubble pulsed quicker. Bog threw his head back and groaned. He could feel his arm tingling and bones shifting. It didn't hurt, it felt… it felt like Marianne. _Everything_ felt like Marianne. He was drowning in her and he didn't want to come up for air.

She was planting kisses on him like seedlings, and from each one bloomed a glowing tendril that reached out from him to the primrose wall. She wanted to get closer so she flung a leg over and straddled him. She ran her fingers up his back, between his wings and he arched and shuddered involuntarily.

He growled and put one arm around her while the other reached up into her hair, clawed fingers roving up her scalp, drawing her close so he could kiss her again. And her eyes flew wide. "Your hand!" she cried happily, but he didn't notice and once his lips were on hers again, she didn't care anymore either.

Slowly the spell began to wear off, and their fervent love began to cool. The tendrils retracted and the bubble popped. It opened above their heads and peeled downward, collapsing in a slow, drippy sort of way, then dissipated into a puff of pink smoke revealing the couple in their state of disarray.

Dawn squeaked and put her hands up to her mouth to cover her smile. As Marianne and Bog began to disengage from each other, Plum floated over to inspect her handiwork. Satisfied, she huffed on the nails on her right hand, buffed them against her chest and said, "Damn, I'm good."

Bog stood up, bowed to the Sugar Plum Fairy and said, more formally than anyone thought possible, "You have my everlasting gratitude."

Marianne less-formally ran up to Plum and hugged her within an inch of her sparkly life. "Thank you," she whispered. Surprised, Plum hugged her back and said, "It was my pleasure. Well, no. Technically it was _your_ pleasure, but I was happy to do it all the same."

Marianne blushed and Bog cleared his throat.

And then Roland sauntered inside with a saucy smile and said, "Well, isn't this nice."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"What are _you_ doing here?" Marianne snapped angrily.

Roland twirled a lock of his hair around his finger before letting it bounce back into place. "Well hon, I just thought your father would like to be informed about where his daughters and their kidnapper are. Is? Are. Whatever." He waved his hand about in annoyance.

Just then, a bevy of armed guards surrounded the entrance and the King stepped into the cramped, inverted entryway. Bog snarled and hunched protectively over Marianne, but she placed her hand on his arm, calming him down. She whispered, "I'll fix this. Just don't do anything… rash."

"I'll give _him_ a rash," Bog hissed, flicking his head towards Roland who was at that moment standing proudly with his hands on his hips, obviously pleased with himself.

Marianne patted Bog gently. "Stand up straight and don't hit anyone," she whispered before she stepped forward to meet with her father.

"Are you all right?" the King asked his eldest daughter.

"I'm fine. _We're_ fine," replied Marianne, beckoning her sister to join her.

Dawn stepped over to stand next to her Marianne and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, we're both fine."

The King sighed with relief and then spoke to his guardsmen. "Seize him." While gesturing with a limp hand towards Bog.

Bog had quietly slipped over to his staff and was attempting to un-wedge it from where it was stuck when he heard the order called for his capture. As a King himself, Bog cut an impressive figure, and being newly restored, he was able to push up quickly on the jaw, kick his staff free and catch it before it could hit the ground.  Staff at the ready, he crouched, prepared for a fight when Marianne's voice rang out.

"I _order_ you to stop!" she demanded and stood between Bog and the two advancing guardsmen, her wings spread in warning.

Unsure, they hesitated. She _was_ the princess after all. Dawn joined her sister with a defiant little stomp of her foot.

"What is this? I don't understand," her father sputtered. He turned on Plum and roared, " _Is this your doing?_ "

Plum lazily floated over to him and said cheerily, "Why no, your majesty. They are completely unfettered by anything of mine. They speak of their own minds the truths of their own hearts."

"But, how is this possible?" he asked, looking at Bog again with a critical eye.

Plum shrugged and said, "Love is strange."

The Kings eyes widened and he saw his daughter and Bog anew. Worry flit briefly across his face before he sighed with acceptance. It could be worse, he thought. But not by much. Just as long as she's happy…

Roland, realizing the situation wasn't going as he had hoped, unhooked the love potion from his belt. He had planned on Bog being hauled away by now, leaving him free to try and dust Marianne privately for another attempt at the throne. He was beginning to feel desperate.

Marianne felt Bog tense behind her and a low rumble escaped him. She saw Roland advancing and quickly picked up the sword she'd left on the floor. Roland unstoppered the love potion and pulled back his arm to fling some in her face, but found himself at the end of her sword again. Calling her bluff, he flung the potion at her anyway.

As the magic dust flew through the air towards her face she brought her sword down hard, severing Roland's hand from his arm. It fell, still holding the filigreed pink potion bottle, and hit the floor with a muted thump. He howled in pain, fell to his knees and quickly pressed his bleeding stump to his gut to try and staunch the flow of blood.

The blow came too late. The love potion hit its target. Marianne had been dusted!

There were gasps and exclamations of dismay from everyone, none more so than Bog. Marian scrubbed at her eyes furiously, not daring to look at anyone until she remembered what Plum had told her earlier about how the potion worked… or didn't work.

Slowly she opened her eyes until they focused on Roland, and she was filled with revulsion, and then immediately, relief. She trusted her love for Bog and it was true. She turned to him, smiled like a ninny and threw her arms around the imposing King of the Dark Forest, hugging him furiously. He laughed and hugged her back, lifting her off the ground as much as he was able in such tight quarters.

Plum looked at Roland, sighed and said, "Well. It's going to be pretty hard for me to fix _that_ seeing as there isn't a lot of love for him around here." She clucked her tongue and flew over to the severed hand. "But it's not impossible." She smiled confidently, plucked the dripping hand from the floor along with the rest of the love potion and quickly grabbed a spare primrose petal from the few extra that were left over from her previous spell. She put the hand in the center of the petal, poured the rest of the love potion on it and wrapped it tightly, then delivered the unpleasant package to the fairy King.

"You should keep this for as long as you feel it's needed. The leftover potion should act as a preservative. When you are ready, you can give it back to him and he will be restored, but only when you feel he's worthy," explained Plum.

She floated over to Roland, who was whimpering and rocking on the floor. She snatched his ruined arm with her right hand, pulled it straight so she could examine the wound, and then spat on the stump, rubbing the saliva into it with her other hand. The bleeding stopped and a glowing blue sheen covered his wound.

"There," she said. "That should hold it. When you've proven yourself not to be a rotten lump of a creature, and the King wills it, he will give you back your hand. Should such a time ever come, just put it back into place and it should adhere to you as if it were never removed."

The fairy King looked down at Roland and said, "Get out of my sight."

Roland, no longer in pain, no longer bleeding, but missing a hand, took his leave most hastily.

Marianne, still in Bog's arms, kissed him passionately. When her lips were finally free she said, "Let's get out of here and go find you a new castle. Something, perhaps a lot less… crumbly."


End file.
